


Let's talk about... ( Partie I)

by Arashimelia



Series: Let's talk about... [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Best Friends, Composed, Creativity, Double personnality, Family, Flashback, Friendship, History, Life - Freeform, Life/Death - Freeform, Love, M/M, Music, Mystery, Past, Psychology, Special Relationship, Suspense, Teenager, Therapy, Thriller, Time - Freeform, Writing, Young Men, adult, artist, dark side, present, secret
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:41:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29867226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arashimelia/pseuds/Arashimelia
Summary: As he finds himself in a psychiatric center, Jinyoung tries to remember why he is there. Only the past is the omniscient witness to the truth. Each one of us knows only a part of it, the part that we want to believe.
Relationships: BamBam/Choi Youngjae/Im Jaebum/Kim Yugyeom/Park Jinyoung/Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang, GOT7 Ensemble/Everyone, Park Jinyoung/Jackson Wang
Series: Let's talk about... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195871
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back ! It's my most precious fiction, it is really close to my heart. I really hope you will like it, I prefer to warn you that it is very long.

Red, red everywhere. A red hand, lips tinged with red, a red net sliding along a thigh. A flash, a look, and then black. Six letters and a number inscribed on a wall: UORNI-J. Its meaning having of understanding only for its author. A table with an empty chair in a corner. A white circle marked on the floor, separated into two moons by a line. A second starting from the edge to join the first in the middle. Two lamps illuminating the room in a dark light, worthy of the greatest masterpieces. A staging mastered in its smallest details. And at the center of this chaotic spectacle, the presence of a body.

There he was, lying on the floor, his hair soaked with sweat, his eyes closed, unable to make the slightest movement. The Earth had just turned around again and he wondered if he was still alive or not... The difference between the two was sometimes very small. The blood was beating in his temples at a speed close to the explosion. It was hitting hard! It was hitting violently! A jackhammer wouldn't have done as much damage. Everything was getting mixed up in his head. His thoughts were running away, even those of the last ten minutes. It was impossible for him to stop a specific piece of information and dwell on it. No matter how much he searched through the meanders of his memory, he couldn't remember the date of the day either. The chaos in his head only amplified his powerlessness to remedy the situation. His body was as paralyzed as his mind. Time continued to pass without him being able to physically act on his environment. He concentrated and tried to open an eye, which accentuated the violence of the blows in his head. He did not, however, back away from the ordeal inflicted. When he finally succeeded in lifting his eyelid, he had to close it instantly. The light had just torn his retina. His nervousness finally finished his brain and he fell back into a form of unconsciousness. It took a while before he came back to himself. He tried, for the second time, to move his fingers, but he could only lift them off the ground. His nervous system seemed to be damaged, the slightest movement sent electric shocks throughout his spine. He took a deep breath and decided to wait a while before trying again. His headache was back, stronger than ever. He focused his attention on today's date. He needed to know if he still had a chance to make a difference. If there was, he needed to get back to his normal state. He felt anguish taking possession of his body, insensitive to imposed decisions but completely receptive to pain. The panic commanded his brain to release a dose of adrenaline, not to stimulate him, but to destroy what little energy he had left. He thought that this discharge would kill him for good. He gritted his teeth very hard, it was the only thing he could do to express his suffering. He understood that he would have to calm down so as not to increase his torment. He took a deep breath to expel the fear, he squeezed his eyelids, and he put the pain aside. He was going to find the answer to his question, it was recorded somewhere in his memory. It could not have disappeared from his hard drive, it had not been restored. In his head, images scrolled by furtively, he needed to slow down their rhythm to fix himself on one of them. He concentrated a little more. The sequence of images began to slow down and there were fewer of them. He focused his attention on five of them. As time went on, their outlines began to take shape. He dropped two of them and the content of the other three became much more detailed. He felt that he was close to the goal, he had to make a last effort, he was finally going to get his answer. He zoomed in on the image that inexorably attracted him in an inexplicable way. As he got closer, he became convinced that it was the key to the story. It exuded such strangeness and at the same time such familiarity that made him look inside with apprehension. He stuck his head through the frame and tried to see a clue in the visible corners. The mist gradually dispersed, giving way to a scene he knew and saw many times. Only one detail differed from previous times. He did not immediately pay attention to it. When he finally looked at it, he began to scream so loudly that he thought his body would split apart under the effect of its power.

He finally remembered the date of the day. He lost consciousness again.


	2. Ten years ago...

He chewed on the cap of his pen while looking out the window. He was bored to death. He felt like he had been locked in that classroom for days, desperately waiting for the bell to ring. It was going to be a long time, given the speed at which the needles were moving. He particularly hated the needle seconds, which kept reminding him of the minutes lost chewing his pen while the outside world waited for him. The outside world was waiting for him, holding out its arms and welcoming him, except that his professional future was supposedly at stake. He scratched his head, ruffling his hair all over the place, without taking any notice of its shape. He pushed on his legs and tilted his chair on two legs. Crossing the teacher's reproving gaze, he put it back on the floor, looking up at the ceiling. He wondered if the prison would not be less painful. His mother often told him that he was exaggerating. He didn't agree. She was not in his place to understand him. He put his head on his table and blew on the pieces of gum that were spread out on his notebook. Their flight was short-lived. They came crashing miserably to the ground with no chance of freedom. He identified himself perfectly with their fate, understanding their feelings, however, pieces of gum might feel. He scribbled a couple of comments, unrelated to the course. "Run away with me" "You're like a firework" "You're my paradise". He drew respectively under each of them: a mask with a strange smile, an apple, and a small symbol formed by a circle separated in two by a line, a second one starting from the middle and joining the edge of the circle. He raised his head towards the clock and realized that it had taken him almost a quarter of an hour to refine the details of his drawings. He framed them and embossed them to make the whole thing look like a CD cover. He bit his lip, concentrating on the calligraphy of the six letters in the middle of the cover: JUNIOR  
Once the result was finished, he moved the sheet away to get a more general overview. He was quite satisfied with the result even if the next day he would spend a second hour of class to resume a good part of his work. He put the sheet back in his notebook and closed it the instant the bell rang. He rushed to the door and left the room first. In the corridor, he was stopped by a young man slightly taller than him:

"Jinyoung, wait!"

He turned around and smiled at the nonchalance with which Jaebum came to join him.

" It was boring, this class," he told him.

"You astonish me."

" Are you going to smoke?"

"Yeah, that's why I'm in a hurry."

"I'm going with you."

They went down the stairs and went through a first door and then a second one before regaining their freedom. He took a cigarette out of his pocket and offered another one to his friend. He had known him long enough to know that Jaebum always managed to never carry a cigarette with him. He also lent him his lighter. For two minutes, they didn't exchange a word about the "well-being" that nicotine diffused into their lungs. He stretched and cracked his neck before taking another puff. He noticed that Jaebum was unaware of his presence. He seemed to be totally elsewhere unless his attention was focused on a more interesting person a few feet away from them.

" You should stop drooling in front of her, it's not very classy," Jinyoung advised him with a knowing smile.

" She's pretty but she's not my type. "

" I always knew you weren't interested in pretty girls."

" Of course, I am," he replied in the first degree. "But she is not."

"Then why are you looking at her like that?"

" She reminds me of someone, but I don't know who..."

" Your mother..."

Jaebum replied with a finger of honor.

" What? What did I say?" Jinyoung asked, amused.

" Big bullshit."

" I'm just trying to help you..."

" Remind me why we're friends."

"Because we've been neighbors since we were seven and nobody wanted to play with you."

"Did you come looking for me? So now don't fuck with me. "

" Consider it a show of friendship."

"If you could limit your proof of friendship, thank you in advance. "

" Does that go for my cigarettes too? "

" I can make an effort for certain signs of affection..."

" I wonder why I'm still friends with you."

" You said it yourself, you came looking for me."

" Does that mean I can't go back? "

" Take responsibility for your choices."

" If it were possible, I would tell my seven-year-old self not to make the same mistake."

" And you would still come and play with me because you never listen to anyone. "

" I would convince me. "

" Did you come looking for me? So now don't fuck with me. "

" What are you talking about?" a voice asked suddenly, beside them.

They turned their heads towards its owner. They hadn't realized that a young man with a big smile had been listening by their side for several seconds.

" Nothing special," Jaebum replied.

" Just from our childhood, " Jinyoung added.

" What's that?"

"According to JB., I would do exactly the same thing again if I could change events because I always do what I want. And I don't agree with that.

" Isn't that a bit too philosophical a conversation?"

They looked at each other, astonished to be associated with this adjective. It wasn't usually the kind of adjective used to describe them.

"I don't think so. Don't you ever ask yourself that kind of question?" Jinyoung asked him.

" About the past?"

"Yes or about our choices. For example, if you were someone else for a day, what would you do that you didn't dare to do while being you? "

" Nothing," Mark answered. "I'm fine the way I am."

" Is there anything you don't do because of the way other people look at you?"

" No, I always do what I want to do. "

" And you, Jaebum-ah?"

" What's your question?"

" Eighteen years old and already Alzheimer's, it's sad! If you were someone else for one day, what would you like to do that you didn't dare to do by being you?"

The young man folded his arms and stared at the horizon, just behind Jinyoung. This one turned around to check that there was nothing on his back except the direction his friend's thoughts were going. Jaebum's silence lasted several tens of seconds. The other two looked at each other to make sure their friend had not been paused. The latter finally moved, at the end of what seemed to last an eternity, to announce that there was nothing he could think of.

"So much for that!" Jinyoung complained. Sometimes I wonder if you do it on purpose," he added, raising his eyes to the sky.

" What has he done now?" asked a young man who had just arrived. He was accompanied by another boy who kept smiling constantly, reducing the opening of his eyes to a slit.

"I ask him a question, he takes ten years to answer and finally he has no opinion."

" You should be used to that. "

" I am used to it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't piss me off."

" I think it's funny," Youngjae intervened.

" I don't have your patience. "

" You know, you have the right to say something," Jackson remarked to Jaebum "You have the right to say something.

" What do you want me to say? Jinyoung likes it when things move fast and he gets accurate answers. And he knows I'm not going to react the way he wants me to. I don't know what more I can say."

" He's not wrong!" Jackson replied, turning to Jinyoung.

" Are you taking his side?"

" Not at all... I'm just saying that you know him and he won't change."

"So you're taking his side."

" What's the matter with you? "

" Nothing's the matter! What's going on?"

" You're acting like a child. "

" Are you calling me a kid? What's wrong with you?"

" Jinyoung! Stop!" Mark cut.

" What's up?"

"You're saying weird things. "

" We're talking, I'm just giving my opinion and it's backfire !!!"

"Because we don't understand where you're going with this. "

" Normal, you're not listening to what I'm trying to explain."

" What are you trying to explain to us?" Jackson asked.

There was silence around them. Whatever the answer was, it would only make the situation worse. They all had this certainty. Jinyoung realized that the atmosphere had taken a turn that made everyone uncomfortable. He felt a shiver running through him. He wanted to run away, to start screaming to release the tension that was holding him back. Fortunately, Jaebum had the intelligence to change the subject. He relaxed a little, the feeling that had taken him by the gut was beginning to dissipate. He could breathe better, his heart returned to a normal rhythm and the heat from his face evaporated.

" I'll see you after school?" Jaebum asked.

"I'd rather go home. I have a lot of things to do," Youngjae answered.

" Same here!" Mark added.

"Come on guys, make an effort!" Jinyoung begged.

" What's in it for us?" Jackson asked.

" My eternal gratitude."

" Don't you have something more attractive?"

" Besides my body," he laughed.

"I'm not sure I can buy myself anything with it."

" I go to the bathroom, I think about it and see what I can offer you."

Their friend walked away to the restroom and they continued talking without paying attention to the rest of the world. Not far away, another group of teens was debating a series that had been on TV the night before. Suddenly a shout was heard. They all turned in their direction in a single motion. Jinyoung had grabbed a guy by the collar of his jacket and punched him in the face again. He then kneeled down on his stomach, pinned him to the ground, and straddled him. He hit him again and again, feeling the knuckles of his fingers crack on the jawbone. He could no longer stop, pushed by an invisible force. No matter how hard he tried to "wake up," he kept going back into this nameless whirlwind. Trapped by his own violence, he had no choice but to strike.

\- Jinyoung! Do you know why you are here?

\- Don't call me Jinyoung, I'm Junior!

\- All right, then. All right, then. Do you know why you're here?

\- I told you to call me Junior!!!

\- Junior, why are you here?

Quiet.

\- Do you know why you were asked to come to talk to me?

\- Fuck you!


	3. Nine years after the high school

" Jinyoung! Do you know why you are here?"

" Don't call me Jinyoung, I'm Junior!"

" Okay, I'll do it. All right, then. Junior, do you know why you're here?"

" No, I can't remember. "

"Do you know where you are?"

" Yes, I'm at the Center."

" And do you know who I am?"

" You are my shrink." 

" How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven years old."

" What is the last memory you have?"

"This morning I had breakfast and went straight to our session." 

" Do you remember how long you have been at the Centre?"

" Three months." 

"How many sessions did we have together?"

" About a dozen."

"I would like to remind you that you have no memory loss from a neurological point of view. Your memories are intact except for the reason for your presence at the Center. "

" And you refuse to give it to me." 

"You know that this is not exactly a refusal. It is important that you do this work alone or the therapy will have no effect. "

" It's been three months and it doesn't change anything. I don't see the point if it leads nowhere. "

" Your memory is buried, it's completely repressed. There's a big knot all around it and the only way to bring it to the surface is to untie the threads around it. "

" You play the alchemist. "

" The alchemists?"

" Maybe I'm a bombshell who, when you find out the truth, might blow up in your face. "

" You know that you were placed here after being found not responsible for your actions. "

" Euphemism for saying that I am a criminal. Aren't you afraid that I'll re-offend if I remember? "

" During our last session, you remembered the trial, were you afraid of this reality?"

" No, I suspected that I had not come to this Center on my own. I'm not that kind of person. "

" What do you mean "it's not my type"?"

" When I was a teenager, my parents sent me to see someone and I knew it was nonsense. "

" Do you still believe that?"

" Yes, but... I don't have any other choice. It's a court order. "

"If you want, you can not talk to me. You don't have to, especially if you think our sessions are useless."

" No, I want to remember. "

" Why do you want to remember so much?"

" Because it drives me crazy not knowing why I'm locked in this cage."

" Yet you told me that you might be a time bomb that might explode when you find out the truth."

" It's true, but if I stay in the dark, it's not a risk. I'm really going to go crazy."

" You talked about a cage, is that how you feel about the Center?"

"What do you call it? We don't have access to the outside, we just have a few visits here and there. Besides, because of that, my parents are the only ones who come, I don't see my friends anymore. I no longer work except in my room or should I say in my cell. During the day, I only have contact with the medical staff or other patients. For me, it's a cage. " 

"Even if the memory comes back to you, there is little chance you will get out quickly."

" I know, but I wouldn't have the same vision of this place anymore. I still don't understand why I have to find out for myself. "

" It's a question that comes up often."

" Normal, isn't it?"

" I think you understand the importance of not having an outsider reveal the facts to you but you keep asking yourself the question about the relevance of this choice. "

" You don't want to be responsible for the upheaval it could cause me."

" Formulating it this way may seem like an easy solution taken by our management, but you have grasped something of the establishment's project. Announced by another person, the shock that follows is very often more brutal and the consequences can be aggravated. It is also a way for you to reflect on the path you have taken to get to this moment. "

" And to know why I took this path."

" It is a possibility. It all depends on the type of work you are doing. It is always different from one patient to another. I don't have a miracle recipe to offer you because each human has his own story, his own psychic construction and that's what we work from."

" How do I untie the threads of the knot?"

" It's the same, there is no recipe. Keep talking about whatever comes into your head. Little by little, your unconscious will play its role and release matter to your consciousness. How can you do this? I don't know and you won't know, it's the psyche that starts. It can't be explained, at least not concretely. "

" It's strange but I'm ready to do anything to find out." 

" I repeat, but therapy can take time. "

" I know that..."

" You told me the last time that you felt like you weren't making any progress, that you were just standing still. Is this impression due to your confinement? "

" I always liked it when things moved fast. My friends have often reproached me and my girlfriends as well. I always had the feeling that my ideas were going at a speed above the allowed average and that no one could keep up with me. It creates a sense of frustration in me. It's not other people's fault. I realize this but I can't help but be angry. I can't control myself no matter how hard I try. It's there, lurking in the shadows. She waits for the rift to destroy everything in her path. And I have several faults, so anything can happen..."

"Are you only angry when things don't go your way? "

" Or when they don't go my way. I don't want to be like that... Tyrannical borderline leader, just doing as he pleases and not listening to anyone. Except that I can't do otherwise."

" Do you still see yourself that way?"

" That's what I am. In my work, it's more of an advantage, but on a daily basis, it's hell for those around me."

" Have they ever told you that?"

"No, because they are too nice. When I really go too far, they make me understand it, but they wait a long time before putting me back on the right path."

" Do you need to be put back on the right path?"

"The framework I set for myself is too rigid. I need others to soften it, otherwise, it rubs off in all areas. It's been like that for a very long time. In adolescence, it became worse. To go off the beaten track was too scary. Maybe that's why I never skipped classes even though I really wanted to. I wasn't free. I felt constantly locked in the classroom, in my body, and in my head. Trapped within myself and, paradoxically, I never felt as reassured as I did in those moments when everything was tidy and in order. Nothing could shake the order in which I had built myself. It gets confusing sometimes... My thoughts come out of my mouth without me knowing exactly what my original idea was."

" Do you feel like you're not clear? "

" I'm starting to get a headache, could we shorten the session and start again next time?"

" Sure, sure. If the headache persists, go to the infirmary. We'll see you exceptionally tomorrow "

She accompanied him to the exit and shook his hand. He left the room and she closed the door just behind him. The hammer blows to his head intensified. He remained in place, his hands on his temples, breathing softly. This was not the first time that these headaches had occurred during or just after his session. Perhaps his unconscious was trying to make him understand that he was stirring up memories, feelings, feelings that he had left frozen in a corner thinking that wax statues don't come to life. With therapy, he understood his mistake better. By dint of accumulating dust under the carpet, it would end up spilling out, suffocating you. He waited until his headache subsided and then he went back to his "cell". He went to the infirmary to ask for a pill for the pain. He lay down in his bed and fell asleep without dreaming. When he woke up, it was lunchtime. He got up and went to the common room. Once he had eaten his meal, he had the choice between several workshops offered by the Centre. Every day they were different, but they came back once a week. He felt that the patients were kids who needed to be occupied during their free time, except that their parents did not come to pick them up in the evening. He usually didn't need a workshop to fill the void in his day, he spent his time composing. He had access to his computer and microphone, which was enough. He wrote the lyrics of his songs in the garden, watching others plant fruits and vegetables. Quietly sitting on a bench, he let himself be caressed and inspired by the sun's rays. He wondered what he would do when the cold and rain returned. Exceptionally, that day, he was not in the mood for composing, he preferred to register at the painting workshop. The Center had three rooms exclusively reserved for this activity, where the patients' whole body, not just their hands, poured their insides out on giant leaves. In this way, they could express their feelings on a human scale. He entered the room with some apprehension. It was a first for him to take part in a proposal made by the Center. Several pots of paint of different colors and brushes of different sizes were available. Several pots of paint of different colors and brushes of different sizes were placed on a table. A chair was also provided. He placed his table in a corner of the room where he was sure not to dirty it. He set in motion a randomly selected "setlist" containing both compositions by different artists and his own. When the first song started, he walked to the table and hesitated in front of the paint cans, before deciding to use black and pouring it over most of the floor by spreading it with a roller. He returned to the table and dipped another roller in the red. He approached a wall and in a very precise manner, he slid the roller all the way along the panel to cover it very gently. It took a good hour for the result to be perfect. When the floor was finally dry, he drew a white circle cut in half by a line and a second one from the middle to the edge, the famous symbol was drawn on his first pocket. Suddenly he received a blow to the head, he folded in two under the effect of this violent surprise. He clung to the table, the pain disappeared immediately. He shook his head and went back to work, he continued with the second wall in front of the one he had just painted. He also covered it meticulously.

She had been looking at him for about a quarter of an hour. At that very moment, she didn't know if she should intervene or not. She was only a nurse and a human being. She had no superpowers and that was a pity. Sometimes she felt completely helpless. The shrink came into the room with concern. It was the first time she had seen her in this state. She was usually so impassive.

"What's going on?" she asked.

" See for yourself."

She turned and saw, through a tinted glass window, a room where two walls and the floor had been painted over. Her gaze quickly turned to the table and chair on which the young man she had had a session, in the morning, was sitting. He was looking at the wall while listening to a song.

"What's the problem?" she asked, still puzzled as to why he was there. 

" Wait a minute!"

The young man stood up suddenly, she could finally see his face and realized that his lips were moving quickly. He was talking to himself. He sat down in his place, tilted his head from left to right, and then exploded his forehead on the table. She was so surprised by this gesture that she was slightly startled. He continued looking at the wall without moving, stood up, and repeated the same pattern. As his forehead reached the table, the nurse asked him again, slightly shaking:

"What are we going to do?"

" We have to stop him!"

" But this is his space..."

"He is putting himself in danger, we are not going to..."

"Look!"

He lifted up a can of paint, they stopped breathing. He threw all the paint on the blank wall, dripping red, after heavy bleeding. Then he dipped a roller in the black paint and wrote the following letters: JUNIOR. He stepped back to admire his work. It was not the name that intrigued him but something else had aroused his curiosity, the shrink asked: 

" What is this song?" 

" I don't know..." the nurse answered. 

She listened carefully to the words and suddenly she understood. He remembered everything... 

He even remembered having composed this song, erased from his memory. Now that he knew, he wasn't going to be able to live with it anymore. He was certain of that. He took his momentum and ran straight to the wall, hitting his forehead as hard as he could. He did it again, screaming out his distress. At the second shock, he fell to his knees but continued to smash his head against the wall. The last image that crossed his mind, before he lost consciousness, was blood on his lips, on his thigh, on his hands? His hands. The point of view in the song was that of a murderer talking to his victim. 

He had a knife in his hand, the blade had gone through the flesh several times, bringing out the blood through his mouth, all his anger had been extracted, it had left him for good, it was no longer invading him. All his anger was gone, it had left him for good, it was no longer invading him. He felt calm, he was no longer a prisoner, he was finally free... and at his feet, he was bleeding to death. 

He was free for killing Seun-ah.


	4. One year before the Center

He felt the sun's rays spread throughout his room through the shutters. He opened one eye quickly and then closed it again and wrapped himself in his comforter. He didn't want to wake up and leave his bed. He tried to go back to sleep without success. The noise on the other side of the door prevented him from finding Morpheus' arms. He reluctantly pushed his comforter back, put on his T-shirt, and opened the door to find his roommate preparing breakfast. He hadn't even noticed her presence, too busy slamming the cupboard doors. Jinyoung walked to the right and reached for some bowls and handed them to Jackson who was startled when he saw him.

" Is that why you're making such a racket? "

" I didn't expect to see you. "

" That's what I understood. "

" How come you're already up? "

"That's a good question! Who woke me up? "

" Did I wake you up? "

"Did I?"

"I wasn't paying attention, sorry. "

" Okay, well... Keep making breakfast. "

" Are you eating this morning?"

" Yes, since I woke up early," he says, ironically emphasizing the last word.

"What do you have planned, finally? "

" I'm going to have breakfast with Jaebum"

"Can I come with you?"

"The others aren't invited.

" I want to come with you unless you don't want me to come for some reason. "

" Okay, okay, you can come."

While Jackson was taking a shower, Jinyoung sent a message to Jaebum explaining that they couldn't organize their friend's surprise birthday party. JB told him that they had to find another time to see each other without Jackson's knowledge. Jinyoung frowned doubtfully. They had never been good at surprising each other. He was on his way to answer him when he received another message from his current girlfriend. She told him that she missed him and hoped to see him soon enough. She was starting to seriously get in his head with her honeyed messages. They had been dating for six months and he couldn't stand her anymore. She was pretty, nice, smart, funny, educated, borderline perfect. At first, he had described her in these terms and then the charm evaporated over the months. She had become sticky, constantly on his back. She wanted to know everything about him and his schedule. No secrets between them. He didn't even want to answer her anymore, he was fed up with this stable relationship. When he was in a serious relationship, he would give everything and take it all back, overnight. He wasn't good at nuances, he never hid it. Young women knew exactly what they were getting into. They accepted the contract with the hope that they would be the one to change it. It was a typically feminine utopia. Usually, his stories ended in cries and tears because he remained true to his principles. He never cheated them, but he always managed to become so unbearable that they preferred to break up. He felt that he would soon be back to his good old habit. Some said he was a coward because he was unable to end the relationship on his own. In theory, he agreed with them, but in practice, he didn't have the tools to react otherwise. That was the way he operated. He felt powerless, completely helpless and paradoxically suffering from hurting others. The moment he realized that he was letting himself go completely, he started to panic. He refused to let himself be dominated by his feelings, at the risk of losing his mind. At this idea, he began to scratch his left arm from bottom to top faster and faster and stronger. Seeing Jackson coming out of the bathroom, he stopped immediately, returning to his usual smile and pulling at the sleeves of his pajamas:

" Didn't you put water everywhere?"

" Do you think I'm five years old or what?"

Jinyoung looked at him in "Do I really have to answer that question?" mode. Jackson shrugged his shoulders and retired to his room. Two minutes later, he made a face when he heard his first name scream. He had lied a bit. The bathroom looked more like a swimming pool than he had wanted to admit. Two hours later, they left the apartment to go to the restaurant. They were probably going to wait for Jaebum., the latter having a particular gift for being late. Jinyoung had no trouble finding a place. They entered the restaurant and sat down at the reserved table. The waitress came to offer them an aperitif, and they gladly accepted. They took the opportunity to take a look at her behind when she turned around to get their drinks. They approved the sight with a complicit head movement. They looked at the card without taking the time to wait for their friend who would surely arrive a quarter of an hour later with a good excuse or... not, depending on his mood.

" I'd like to have the dish of the day," Jackson said after a few minutes of intense reflection.

" Have you decided to change the menu? "

" I'm in the mood for something new. "

" Is this a subtle way to make me understand that you might dump your girlfriend?"

" Stop acting wild. I'm only talking about the menu, not about changing girlfriends."

"You hear what's good for you. I asked if you were going to dump your girlfriend, not if you had a new one."

" Why are you going to dump his girlfriend? "Jaebum asked, sitting in his place and unbuttoning his suit jacket to make himself comfortable.

"Jinyoung believes this, I just decided to take the dish of the day."

" How did you come to discuss breaking up when you started the menu? "

" Jackson wants something new."

" So you want to dump your girlfriend? What's wrong with her?"

"But stop it, I never said..."

The waitress arrived to serve the drinks and take the order from Jaebum who answered with a charming smile. She smiled back at him and walked away wiggling her butt a little more than the first time.

"You were saying?"

Jackson didn't react to his friend's question, too absorbed in the show before his eyes.

" How do you manage to get that kind of thing with a simple smile?" he asked.

"I don't know. It's innate. I think the fairies leaned over my crib and gave me this kind of gift.

" With me, they must have gotten the wrong house number. "

" Aren't you exaggerating a bit?" Jinyoung intervened."

" You're the one who dares to tell me that?"

" I don't complain about having no power over girls. "

" I was referring to the fact that you are the King of exaggeration. "

Jinyoung's cell phone started vibrating, he saw his girlfriend's name displayed and the beginning of the message asking him where he was. He didn't answer and continued his conversation as if he hadn't noticed anything:

"I know something about it, I live with you. Besides, you always manage to bring back the ones who yell the loudest."

"I'm not going to apologize because yours are never heard. "

A second message arrived making his cell phone vibrate again. It began with "I would like you to answer me...". :

" At least I'm trying to make sure I don't wake you up. "

"That's why I prefer to live alone," Jaebum said, seeing that the conversation was taking a strange turn.

" You have to piss yourself off," Jinyoung remarked.

" At least I avoid arguing with my roommate about our respective girlfriends' screams. "

"Fighting is a lot of fun," Jackson added.

"You finally agree on something."

" We often agree."

Jackson nodded to confirm and the vibrations of Jinyoung's phone were felt on the table again.

" Maybe you should answer?" Jaebum suggested

" Don't bother, she'll get bored."

"Before you?" Jackson asked. "I bet you'll lose patience first."

" Guys, don't start with your stupid bets. "

"What's the bet?"Jinyoung asked.

JB rolled his eyes, he had no authority over his friends. That's why he quickly dropped the case. He didn't want to get his head stuck in a problem he would never solve. He folded his arms and waited for them to negotiate the stakes of their bet:

" If I win, you cook for three weeks. "

"And if I win, you cook for three weeks."

" How original!" Jinyoung laughed.

"You say that because I do it most often."

"Next time, film yourself so I can get proof."

Jinyoung's cell phone started to get excited on its own, three times in a row.

"I'm going to need a lot of memory in my cell phone. "

" Are you serious? And who's taking care of the housework the most? "

"We could afford to hire someone, but it's okay for you to do it because you're a maniac. You need to control everything."

"Me, I'm in control?" Jinyoung got angry. "If I didn't live with a five-year-old, I wouldn't have to be a controlling mother. "

Vibrations. Vibrations.

" Won't you calm down a little?" Jaebum interrupted as the waitress returned.

The three of them immediately fell silent and stared at each other, all three of them knew perfectly well that they weren't finished. She pushed the glass in front of her so charming customer and Jackson took the opportunity to ask him :

"Are you available after your service?"

It took several seconds before she realized that he had asked her a question:

" Why ?"

" To find out if there's a way to ask you out somewhere..."

Jinyoung's phone panicked on the table. This time it was a call. He stared at it, completely hypnotized by the small lights that were displayed.

" My friend is interested in you," Jackson continued, pointing to Jaebum but observing Jinyoung.

Answered? Don't answer? Vibrations. Vibrations. Answer? Does not answer? Vibrations. Vibrations

He felt as if he heard the incessant ticking of a clock, reminding him that time was passing and over which he had no control. Vibration. Vibration. Like any human being, he was completely subjected to the pressure of needles that turned and never stopped. Vibration. Vibration. He may have been unique, but he was like everyone else in that respect. No differentiation between individuals. Vibration. Vibration. He belonged to that society that constantly thought life was too short. That was his obsession. Vibration... Don't waste another second. Vibration... He grabbed his phone and threw it with all his might to blow it up against the restaurant wall, grazing the waitress in the process. The waitress was startled, Jackson got up by surprise, Jaebum remained imperturbable. He just shook his head slightly. Jinyoung sat down calmly and asked with a slight smile:

"Can we order?"

The waitress nodded her head completely unsettled but said nothing and tried to concentrate on what she was writing. Jinyoung closed the card. JB and Jackson looked at it without adding a comment, their friend did it for them:

"I owe you three weeks of cooking time, I think."

Jackson opened the door of the apartment and went in first. It was almost dark in the dining room even though the shutters were not yet closed. He turned on the light and drank a glass of water. He went to his room without looking to see if Jinyoung had followed him or not. He opened three buttons on his shirt as he walked through the dining room.

"Do you have to undress here?"

He turned around and just looked at Jinyoung, without saying anything. A miracle had just happened. Jackson had no inclination to keep quiet. Talking was as vital as breathing.

"Have you lost your tongue? That's the first time," Jinyoung replied ironically.

Defiantly, he removed the last two buttons from his shirt. He put his hands on his hips, revealing the abs that he had struggled to get during his many sessions at the gym.

"You've decided not to talk to me anymore, is that it?"

" I haven't decided anything. I don't know what to do for you anymore. And I'm not the only one. Everyone can see you're not well but we don't know how to help you."

" I don't need help."

"That's the problem! You no longer know the difference between your needs and reality."

" I don't feel like discussing it tonight."

" You never feel like it..."

" You have a stain on your shirt. "

"Stop changing conversations."

" I'm fine, okay? "

"You're fine? What about your reaction at the restaurant, what about it?"

" It happens to everyone. "

" Except it's happening to you more and more."

" No, it's not!"

" We all get nervous when you start to get upset."

"In that case, why are you looking for me so much?"

" Because I hope, every time, that you'll start laughing and that we'll find the old Jinyoung."

" The old Jinyoung is me!"

"No, you've become your own character. You made Junior alive."

"It's a stage name!!" Jinyoung got angry.

" No, now it's your real personality. That's why you're not well."

"Stop repeating that."

" You want proof?"

He walked towards him and grabbed his wrist. Jinyoung tried to fight back but without success, his friend was stronger than he thought:

" Why do you always wear long sleeves? Are you hiding something?"

He pulled on his sleeve and a red, scarred "CraZY" appeared on his left arm. They looked at him silently for several seconds.

"What were you saying?" Jackson asked softly. "You're okay, right?"

Jinyoung pulled his arm out and put his sleeve back on properly despite his shaking fingers. His whole body was agitated with sudden, jerky movements. His eyesight was blurred by the tears that were rising against his will. He pulled his sleeve back with his trembling and feverish fingers, making sure that his scar was well hidden. His breathing must have been difficult, the air was getting thinner and thinner. He panicked.

"You have to find a way to stop hurting yourself," his friend added with the same sweetness.

He couldn't believe that he had been betrayed by one of the people he trusted the most. He hadn't imagined that he would be able to go this far to prove that he was right. He felt defiled, dirty. No one could access and reveal his most intimate part. Jackson hadn't understood anything. He had never understood the truth. He was just like the others. Seeing him turn his back on him to make tea, anger rose, but he couldn't hold it back like the tears a few seconds before. He grabbed the knife that was on the kitchen table and went forward, clutching it tightly in his palm. When his friend turned around and crossed his eyes, he read the surprise in his eyes. He pushed the tip of the knife into his abdomen. It penetrated him more deeply the second time, he made a third and final round trip. Jackson's mouth opened, he tried to speak, but blood flowed instead of words. He understood what was happening to him. A few seconds later, he watched him fall to the ground but he couldn't see him anymore. He was completely focused on the temporary relief of his anger.

The return to reality was going to be very violent.


	5. Eighteen months before the Center

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning : This chapter takes place six months before Jackson's death.

It had been a difficult day. He had felt like he was floating outside his body, unable to connect to reality. He had been following the conversations, trying to invest in his answers. He wasn't sure if he had succeeded in giving the impression. He had believed to spot in the glance of his interlocutors, a point of incomprehension. If it was the case, it was not their fault. It was his. He was not psychically present. Despite his best efforts to stay focused, he couldn't help but let his mind wander. He was hypnotically stirring the void, numbing himself into a total absence of thought, close to anesthesia. All he had to do was close his eyes and sleep would come for him immediately without any need to fight. The fatigue was not physical. It was attacking the most fragile part of his being, gaining more and more ground. He had always fought it with virulence but he had to face the facts, he was drawing on his last resources. He would soon have more than enough strength to take the upper hand and he could no longer hide the truth. It was absolutely necessary that he finds a solution before slipping for good. He placed his fingers on the keyboard and began to type a few random words, beginning the thread of the story he wanted to tell. It was the first draft and it was far from perfect, but it laid the foundation for his song. Fortunately, he still had that pressure relief valve, the one that didn't require him to maintain a separate inner and outer reality. He didn't have to play a role anymore, to keep his smile to reassure everyone. He finally had the opportunity to express himself without thinking about the consequences or collateral damage. He could erase mistakes, go back, modify, arrange as he pleased until he obtained a result that satisfied him enough. Nothing was final or fixed until he decided to do it. In reality, others had too much influence, they could slow us down. In those moments of creativity, the only one who could stand in his way was himself. To his great relief, he was in the mood to let go of all the frustrations imposed by daily life. The blank page filled up little by little. When he had nothing more to add, he closed the file without rereading the work done. He didn't have enough distance to make corrections. Things always appeared more clearly to him the next morning. He got up and stretched before going to the kitchen to get something to eat. He heard the front door open. Jackson was back and... in charming company.

"Hi! I'm sorry, I thought you were at the studio tonight" his friend and roommate apologized.

" I wasn't feeling very well, so I decided to go home."

" You must really be sick. Even with a fever of 40, you never leave the studio without finishing your song" He said, suddenly remembering the female presence beside him. "By the way, Li Hee, this is Jinyoung. Jinyoung, this is Li Hee."

They greeted each other with an awkward smile, a little confused by the situation.

" I can go to Jaebum and let you have the apartment," Jinyoung offered.

" No, don't worry. We'll be in the room and we won't get out," Jackson replied with a mischievous smile that made the young woman giggle.

" I'll be in my room for the rest of the night too. I still have some work to do."

"I still have some work to do. Good night."

" Good night to you too."

He went back to his room and sat down at his computer. He put his headphones on and turned the music up. He opened a file and began to write a new song. He worked until two in the morning. The letters began to split, their outlines becoming more and more blurred, the white background of the page taking over. His fingers slowed to a stop. His head tilted dangerously as his eyelids gradually closed. His head finally touched the desk on which his computer was sitting. It was not the most comfortable position but it was not his priority, sleep was the strongest.

He approached it slowly, making as little noise as possible. He took the headset off his ears, put his hand on his shoulder, and came close to his ear to whisper:

"Jinyoungie!"

He gently shook his shoulder to try to wake him up. Jinyoung moved his head slightly, rubbing his mouth against his arm. Seeing that he was still in his dream, he called him a little louder:

"Jinyoungie!"

The latter grunted but he opened his eyes little by little, completely lost:

" You should go to bed. You're going to hurt all over."

He nodded as he got up from his seat and patted his friend's shoulder before walking over to his bed and collapsing onto his comforter, arms between his legs. Jackson glanced at the text on the screen. He wondered what the price was for writing such a beautiful song. He saved the file and turned off the computer and the light in the room before closing the door behind him.

He looked at his watch for the third time, trying not to lose his cool. He was always late but he couldn't stand it when others were. That's why he preferred to be the one who was expected. In the beginning, this appointment was not his idea. His mind was totally focused on his new album and he wanted to continue working on his songs. He was stubborn even if he had to spend several hours without success. Yugyeom had managed to convince him to take a step back. He had finished his speech with a shocking argument: enjoy life by buying new sneakers. It was the only thing that could distract him from his obsession with writing. Unable to wait any longer, he was about to leave, but he saw him running. His friend stopped in front of him, slightly out of breath.

"I'm sorry, I finished later than expected," Yugyeom apologized.

" You're lucky, I was just leaving."

" And miss the opportunity to find a shoe for you?"

" I don't really have time for that. "

" Even to try on a few?"

" Not even..."

" I think we'll find a solution to your problem."

He grabbed Jinyoung by the shoulders with a smile and they entered the galleries. After three hours of searching, they sat at a table in a restaurant with their bags. They had also bought a variety of clothes. They ordered a snack and a coffee while being aware that their close neighbors were giggling at them.

"I think you have fans, not too far away..." Yugyeom remarked.

"I've seen them, but I'm more interested in the girl on the right, at the back of the room. "

" I thought you didn't have time for that? "

" When I'm focused on the album, I don't have time for that. Now I'm with you, it's different. "

"I see... Actually no, but I'm going to act like this... I think she must have recognized you because she's looking discreetly in our direction. "

"Considering what she reads, I would be surprised if she listens to my music."

" You might be surprised and the only way to find out is to go and talk to her. "

" What's up? Right now?"

" No, tomorrow. I'm sure she'll be waiting for you all night."

" Cool! I'll be back tomorrow. "

" Don't tell me you... don't you dare go see her?"

" No, it's not that... It's just that..."

" Just what?"

" Have you seen the book she's reading?"

" Yes, and... You've never seen a book that big?"

" I've especially never seen a title that long. She's going to throw me out and I'm not going to understand anything she's telling me."

"Stop thinking and go! "

Jinyoung stood up after taking a sip of his coffee to give himself courage. He approached the young woman and waited beside her table. He was sure that she had not seen him on purpose, he coughed slightly to show his presence. He heard the other two girls start to shout but he did not care. He continued to scrutinize the "girl with the big complicated book", she deigned to look up at him.

"Yes?" she asked.

" You will go out with me. "

It was not a question but a statement, he had not hesitated a second before making this declaration. He didn't have complete confidence in himself but playing cat and mouse was not his thing. Stories always ended the same way, either people got together or they didn't. So he had a 50/50 chance of their meeting leading to a relationship. She looked at him from head to toe, perhaps trying to guess if he was serious and what kind of boy he might be. She put her book down on the table and sank into the sofa that served as her seat:

" I'd like to know what evidence you are basing this conclusion on."

" I've never been very perceptive but... you haven't turned a page since we arrived."

" Maybe I'm having trouble focusing. "

" That may be so. That doesn't mean you won't go out with me. "

" You're too sure of yourself."

" I'm just stating a fact. If you agree to give me your number, that's how it'll end."

" What if I don't give it to you?"

" Then we won't go out. That makes sense to me, doesn't it?"

" It does. Do you want to sit down?"

"No, I just want your number. My friend is waiting for me, it wouldn't be nice to ditch him no matter how charming you are. "

" I don't think that's a good idea, I don't even know you. "

He laughed at the last sentence.

" You don't know me?"

"No, why should I?"

" You're right, I'll leave you. Have a nice evening."

He returned to sit opposite Yugyeom who continued to drink his coffee while waiting for the details of their conversation:

" So?"

"She's going to give me her number."

" She's going to... ?"

" She acts like she doesn't know me. "

" How do you know...?"

" I remembered her. She works for another label. "

She put her book in her bag and left the place, passing by them without giving them a single glance. Yugyeom raised an eyebrow and smiled:

"You were saying?"

"To err is human."

" Too bad, she looked different from the girls you usually meet."

" What do you mean by that?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you have a tendency to spot the most disturbed ones. "

"The most disturbed?"

" Yeah, you know... On the surface, they look completely normal and then it turns out that they are... "

" Crazy? "

" Let's just say that they have a little bit of madness. "

" It's nice to have a little bit of madness, it adds spice to life."

"Okay, so they're crazy. At least they are once they break up with you. "

" Pain can sometimes lead to doing weird things."

" I'm not saying just one, but this... "

" Are you saying there's something wrong with me?"

" I didn't say that..."

"That would be a valid explanation, wouldn't it? "

" Jinyoung, you're starting to get angry."

"I'm not getting angry," he said, remaining impassive despite the emotion in his voice.

" What I meant was that you might be attracted to girls who are close to insanity because it's a field that intrigues you. "

" You think I'm trying to exploit people as a subject of study?"

" Maybe, without you realizing it. "

" I always thought that it was the suffering and the pain of the separation that spoke."

" Maybe I'm wrong..."

He began to reflect on all his relationships, trying to pinpoint when they had gone wrong. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't focus on any one moment. His brain was scrambling, mixing up events, making them completely incomprehensible. The faces, themselves, had no more consistency. The young women were becoming more and more anonymous. He was far too young to suffer from neurological degeneration. And if that were the case, the symptoms would not have occurred in such a brutal way. Yugyeom looked at him worried, he must have suspected that something was wrong, so Jinyoung smiled to reassure him:

" You are right. I have a gift for spotting those who have a predisposition for madness. "

After the second cup of coffee, they got up, took their packages, and headed for the exit. They found themselves on the sidewalk and were looking for directions when a hand appeared in front of their eyes, a business card between its fingers.

"My number," the young woman who had been in the café a few minutes earlier said.

" What did I tell you?" Jinyoung said triumphantly, once she had left.

" Are you going to call her back?"

" She has quite a temper, I like that. "

" I wonder if she'll go crazy too."

It was a good question that he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to. If this one was positive, it would start a whole new line of questioning that challenged his relationship with the opposite sex. He did not want to go back, to dwell on the events that defined him. He did not want to deconstruct the foundations of his personality even if it was to better rebuild himself. This type of work required too much psychic energy, which he lacked more and more cruelly. He refused to spend it at the risk of collapsing and never being able to get up again. No, he would never take such a risk.

"Are you sure of your choice?"

" Yes," he answered with determination.

" Have you thought it through?"

" I don't need to think about it. "

" I'm not sure I'm up to your standards."

" I'm sure you are."

" You trust me too much. "

" We still work great together. You know my limits, you..."

"You mean your non-limits. "

" As long as I can handle it, they're boundaries."

" Since you're suicidal, I don't have to worry, right? "

" We'll discuss this side of my personality later... Right now, I'm trying to convince you of the extent of your talent. "

" You're pushing me to take on a big challenge, you know that? "

" I know and I'm not afraid of it. So are you in or out?"

" I'm in. "

He left his conversation with Teddy with a big smile. The day before had been exhausting but this one was just...great! He had managed to convince his closest collaborator to record a song composed in the night. It was provocative, dark, and full of distress. The kind of song that people could relate to or completely ignore because it evoked such strong personal feelings that were best denied. He had never had any certainty in his professional career and that was a good thing. This way, he was always forced to do better and never sit on his achievements. For once, his instincts were screaming at him that this was an exceptional song and he didn't push it away out of superstition. He returned to the apartment in a very good mood. Jackson was not asleep, he was watching TV without really lingering on a program. When he saw him, he asked him:

"You look so happy. What's up with you?"

" Teddy has agreed to compose the music for one of my songs."

" Isn't that his job ? "

" Except that this song is special. It's bright and very dark. "

" How can it be both bright and dark?"

" Because it's like us, it's complex. And I wasn't sure he would accept this musical challenge. "

" The song, did you compose it at night?"

"Yes, why?"

" Just to know. Are you staying with me tonight or are you going out? "

" I don't have any plans so I'm staying in. I'll just go and change. "

He went to lock himself in his room. Jackson watched him walk away in puzzlement. It was reassuring to see Jinyoung so happy about his day. He preferred to see him in this state rather than with a dreadful face like the day before. Yet he couldn't be completely happy. Something was wrong and he couldn't put his finger on it. He felt that it had something to do with the song, but he couldn't remember exactly what was bothering him. As he turned the situation over and over, he finally decided that it wasn't that important. It was just a song, after all...

He was taking off his T-shirt when he received a message. As he read it, a big smile appeared on his lips. He picked up his phone to answer.

"Tomorrow is fine. You know what? I miss you already... "

It wasn't long before the answer came.

"It's weird but... I miss you too."

He put on a clean T-shirt and left his laptop on his bed. He walked into the living room asking:

" What are we watching?"

**Author's Note:**

> Warning : My idea for this fiction was if GOT7 was playing in a drama. They are not the real personalities of GOT7 because they don't match at all, but it's as if I wrote a drama for them.


End file.
